Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.
Contact me at yetanotherjournal (at) mindspring (dot) com
. . . . .
. . . . .
» Tuesday, November 18, 2014Doing Nothing Is Like Doing Nothing at All
It had stopped snowing by the time we went to bed last night (about one o'clock), but big fluffy flakes were coming down this morning when we got up around nine. They weren't really sticking all that much, but were a constant delight when I took Tucker outside, because they were all almost textbook snowflakes, with beautiful six sides in different patterns, sometimes clumped together in a clot of six or seven, all perfectly formed. Walked Tucker up the road and back, frequently resorting to sticking my nose in my pashmina just to get it warm, and then we went to breakfast at Trish's. There were more people there this morning than last, and I was amused when one guy, yakking on his cell phone, mentioned he would be, that day, up "on the mountain cutting wood." I thought I was watching The Waltons.
The snow was light enough to just be a frosting on the grass and look pretty, and the road was well-traveled and quite clear, but it was so cold and the East Parkway is so curvy at points that we decided to stay in today in case there was ice between us and Gatlinburg; we even had lunch planned just in case.
I don't know how people go on vacation and loll around lying on a beach or getting massages at a resort all day. Doing nothing is about as interesting as doing makework at work. I pretty much read magazines all day, plus about half of Inside the TARDIS, and we listened to Christmas music until even I got bored and put on the radio drama "Paul Temple and the Spencer Mystery." Later we just put on Mike Holmes for the rest of the night.
I did take Tucker out about 1:30 and that was fun: we walked all the way up the gravel road and then crossed to the paved road that runs in the back of the cabins. This leads to some small houses on the east side and the businesses on the west side of the creek (behind our cabin is Jack's Market, a small grocery). I took photos of Tucker in the snow, the creek, and finally a picture of the sky, which was now clear (by that time, even though it was still only 22 degrees with the wind chill bringing it down to 10, the snow was melting, especially on the car) and bright blue.
I took the container of potato soup we bought at Kroger, split it in half, added some milk and bacon bits, and we had that for lunch along with toast. For supper we had Hormel beef tips over egg noodles and a chocolate chocolate-chip and walnut cookie each for dessert.
That's it. Like "Sounds of the Season," a Christmas music channel I've heard about for years that only runs on cable. It plays a lot of songs I haven't heard in years, like "Donde Este Santa Claus," and blows all of SiriusXM's Christmas playlists out of the water.